The ball smacked into the centre of the bat and launched into a cherry red arc towards the boundary. H heralded our arrival at cricket last week with not only the aforementioned six, but a very impressive 49 not out. And with that our summer started.
H has had a few matches already this season, but in one of those funny quirks of life they’ve all been away matches, and places that are far enough away that I don’t fancy rounding up the troops to go to support, and so this was our first match – and I think the first time H has scored into double figures. So for all of us, we’re counting it as the start.
And what a lovely start it was too. Not only did H get actual runs, but they won the match, and more importantly, it was warm and sunny to the point of stiflingly hot, and the opposition were really nice (an all too often overlooked blessing!).
It is just such a part of our summer, and in that, a part of our yearly rhythm, and I know we look forward to cricket Saturdays; usually while stood on the side of a freezing cold, wet, windy and torrentially rainy hockey pitch in the deepest depths of winter. But it’s true even in nicer weather. Between the clubhouse and the pitch is a little square of grass, bounded on the remaining sides by a hedge, and the tennis courts, and it’s the perfect place for the children to run free without bumping into anyone or anything. Pip can always, always find a ball from somewhere (even if we didn’t bring one – I have no idea how he does it) and will run constantly for the entire duration of an innings, round and around and around, kicking the ball in front of him.
This week he even managed to persuade some of the opposition spectators to join him in a little game, simply by looking pleadingly adorable (well if if works on family, why wouldn’t it work on strangers …!).
Kitty and Elma plopped down on the picnic blanket for a bit, but then invented some sort of gymnastics/sprinting game that had their circles running around Pip’s, until the heat got too much and they came back to read stories and play with sticker books and just be.
I think that’s the true magic of cricket; for the players and the spectators, especially when you really aren’t that invested in whether we win or not. Cricket is all about time; it takes a really long time to play even a short match, so you know that you’re going to be there for a while, and you can relax. The only pressure is trying to stop Pip from running onto the pitch, the rest of the world just melts away in the heat.
So long may our weekends be free from rain, and the cricket teas ever more laden with mini-rolls; our season is here and so far we’re loving it!
Joining Katie at Mummy Daddy Me for The Ordinary Moments